Skincare and anti-aging
Hands pretty enough for iphone use
I was on a long-haul flight recently and saw the deeply mediocre movie Serendipity, about a guy (John Cusack) and a girl (Kate Beckinsale) destined to be together. I didn't want to watch it, but the rest of the inflight entertainment consisted of bland docu-dramas, '90s sitcoms and the animated travesty Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. When I arrived home weeks later, I flipped on the TV and there it was again - Serendipity.
I think serendipitously stumbling upon a movie called Serendipity for the second time is a sign. But I was a little insulted that the universe used a B-grade romantic comedy to get my attention. It's sort of shallow, isn't it? Although, admittedly, this page is hardly a transcript of Oprah's Life Class.
Signs can be tough to discern. Are you familiar with the cosmetic company claim about the "seven signs of ageing"? How did they come up with that number?
I understand that they can't put the number of signs at 10; it's simply too many. One cosmetics company has tried it on recently, but I doubt it will take. Because if you had all 10, you'd get a cat, dress it up as a baby, cultivate a flirtatious relationship with the manager of your mobile-phone company's tech-support unit and embrace your new life as a shut-in.
Whereas something like "the four signs of ageing" probably sounds too neat - you know, as if someone made them up.
But there are so many facial procedures available these days that it has become easier to decipher the meaning behind a clump of soggy tea leaves than to work out in what year a lady was born. Which is no bad thing. It just means that if you really must know, then you have to look to other signs - like her hands. My own are freakish enigmas: small and pudgy like an infant's, yet with the knotty veins you'd expect from a retired abseiling instructor. What experts might term "Benjamin Button hands". Am I an ageing baby? Or a toddling hag? (Can you hear that carnival organ?)
Whatever I am, it's sadly obvious I don't care for my hands. Which is a shame because there is a range of new hand moisturisers out containing a plethora of ingredients, including sunscreen and macadamia oil, to protect your skin from - lower your voice now - the signs of ageing.
Use one at work - the moisturiser will guard against the drying effects of the air con. It's also a subtle way to show whoever approaches your desk, while you casually rub your hands together, that they're less important than your grooming methods. A little The Devil Wears Prada, if you will.
Oh, okay. That's three movie references in one column. That's a sign that if the universe were indeed talking to me, it wasn't being shallow. The universe, in its infinite wisdom, was merely speaking my language.